Wednesday, 25 July 2012

If you are what you eat, then I'm Tuscan Pulled Pork

My food diary. Not that I have one. If I did I think it would spontaneously self combust.

I promise this is not me, but at the rate I'm going, it could be.

No, the subject I plan on banging on about today is not dragging you painfully through my consumptive habits (although it kind of is), it's wondering why my eating days start off beautifully and end up going to hell in a handbasket (or perhaps a picnic basket).

When I did Weight Watchers after Joshie was born I developed a strict breakfast routine.

Eclipse mint on way to Dr so I don't knock the poor man out with my Tuscan Pulled Pork garlic breath.

Make afternoon tea for the kids. Chop up apple. Eat at least half of one, and half a leftover banana.

Put out Anzac biscuits for kids.

Eat 2 anzac biscuits. Miraculously home made but still chockas with butter, sugar and golden syrup.

Eat bits of dinner while cooking (because you have to taste what you're serving don't you?)

Eat kids leftovers (otherwise it's waste)

Eat own dinner. Serving too large.

This is our sugar cupboard. Appalling isn't it?

Eat at least 6 pieces of chocolate. Unless it's Maltesers in which case the entire bag, no matter what
size.

And don't even get me started on the red wine. At least a glass 4 nights a week. Often more. And the champs and nibbly bits when we have people over or go out. Although I don't really class these items as food, they transcend food and are categorised under "having a bloody good time".

Until the next morning.

Suffer torrents of guilt. Refuse to get on scales or look at self in mirror. Self loathe.

Go for a run (great for fitness, unlikely to shift the previous afternoon's extravaganza).

Wonder why my jeans are tight. And wonder why I start off so beautifully every day with a perfect breakfast, and end it with sheer bacchanalian indulgence.

Why can't I finish as well as I start? Why does my restrain get all wobbly after mid afternoon? How do I suffocate that little voice that says "aah fuckit, you can start being careful tomorrow".

About Me

Mum of 3, copywriter, optimist. Every day I'm amazed and energised by the people I am privileged to share my days with, my gorgeous family and the community I live in. I am also bemused, befuddled, bedazzled and humbled. Sometimes I am outraged and infuriated. I suffer from an inability to be quiet most of the time, I hope to use this to my advantage on this blog. At the same time I also recognise the importance of occasionally keeping my mouth shut. Hence the name which is a motto shared by my bestie and I and frequently keeps us out of trouble